


Turn me Off

by fickle_fics



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Punk AU, grey white, very brief and subtle suggestion of sexual violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fickle_fics/pseuds/fickle_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a bad gig and Grey knows there's only one way to stop herself thinking about it/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn me Off

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the held down square for seasonsofkink

“We’re not talking,” Grey said the moment Malcolm got into the car. It had been a shit gig and if he asked about it, if he even _mentioned_ it she’d think about it and that was the last thing she wanted.

He his agreement, slipping his arm around her as she got into his lap and started kissing him, thrusting against him, as they pulled away.

The hotel was only a few minutes away and Malcolm really wasn’t sure if he was glad or not. Obviously he wanted to get her into his hotel room asafp, but there was a definite appeal to Grey losing control and fucking him in the back of his car, and going on the way she was kissing him, well it was really only been a matter of time.

The car pulled up just as Grey’s hand had slipped below his waistband and there was a significant part of him that wanted to ask his driver to just carry on, to keep going until he said otherwise, it wasn’t like they needed a bed, or privacy for that matter.

Grey pulled away though, removed her hand from inside his pants and took matters into her own hands. She needed more room, more time, just generally fucking _more_.

Luckily she kept herself pressed against him as they’d entered the hotel, his erection pressed against her arse, and one of his hands hidden under the hem of her t-shirt. Everyone knew they were a thing now, it was all over fucking Twitter and facebook and all that other social media bollocks, he saw no reason to hide it. No one batted an eyelid. It was one of many perks of being a rockstar, even a slightly fading one - people knew not to ask questions, especially of him. He had a reputation after all. They kissed all the way up to their floor, Grey still pressing way too fucking close, breathing hard and loud, and _fuck_ he could probably just fuck her right there and then. Who the hell was going to challenge the great Malcolm F Tucker? Only idiots. And if it did happen, well, he wouldn’t be using that hotel again.

It wasn’t a long ride, even though to Malcolm’s pulsing cock it had felt like forever. And they were there, on his floor. And it really was _his_ floor. Oh there were a few rooms booked on it, all for the band, and one for Grey for reasons neither of them questioned, because she was always in his room, why the fuck wouldn’t she be? It was her that pulled him to his room, _their_ room, fumbling in his back pocket for the keycard, groping his arse as she did, before letting them in.

The moment they were inside she had him pressed up against the door, all hands and teeth. Then she pulled away from him, leaving him gasping for air as she looked up at him studying his face. He knew that look - it was her trying to figure out what to do, what she wanted. 

He waited with baited breath.

“Hold me down?” she asked, chewing on her lip as she said it.

_Fuck_! So the gig had been that bad as far as she was concerned? Okay there’d been a few cunts shouting abuse at her, cunts that had been removed from the gig pretty fucking quickly on his say so and given a bit of a kicking for their trouble, but it hadn’t been that bad had it? _Fuck!_

He nodded, walking her backwards towards the bed. his eyes on hers.

They both knew what it meant - Grey being submissive. It meant things were so fucking bad in her head she just needed him to make sure she couldn’t think, and sure she could do that with her on top, but it wasn’t quite the same. She needed to give up her control, to check out, to give herself to him, because she knew she could, and she knew just how well having him like that worked at straightening her head out.

The moment her legs hit the end of the bed she climbed up onto it, scrabbling backwards to lie with her head on the pillow. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Malcolm crawled onto the bed and over her. With a twisted smile he reached down between her legs, undid her flies and pulled down her jeans roughly. He loomed over her, one arm either side of her as he glanced down at her, naked from the waist down, mouth open, _eager_ , desperate even. He didn’t like knowing what got her to this point, but they both enjoyed it, so fuck it, right? Slowly his hands moved up her thighs, over her torso, catching the hem of her t-shirt in his hands as he went and pulling it off, tossing it aside so she was there, totally naked below him. _Fuck_ , he loved her like this, he felt kind of guilty about it, but it worked for her, it worked for them. And he knew even better than she did how good it felt to just let go.

His hands ran up her arms to her wrists, encircling them easily as he looked down at her, eyes burning into hers, cock throbbing. He pushed her wrists together so he could hold them up over her head with one hand and undo his own jeans with the other, wriggling out of them awkwardly without letting go of her.. He let go only for a second to pull off his t-shirt and he was on her again, fully, completely, each of her arms held up over her head as he looked at her, cock throbbing as his hands tightened on her wrists.

Grey gasped, her hips tilting closer. All she wanted was him, holding her down, fucking her hard and fast in that way that made it impossible to think about anything other than him.

“Please,” she said, voice already shaky as she pressed closer to him.

Malcolm smirked, his hands tightening around her wrists as he angled himself a little awkwardly against her and managed to enter her without having to let her go.

She struggled against him, twisting her arms and pressing closer to him as he fucked her, making him hold her more firmly, his hands clamp like around her wrists as he continued to thrust hard and fast against her, his eyes on her the whole time, mouth open as he panted heavily.

She arched against him as much as she could, her arms still pinned over her head, her head still on the pillow as she struggled again, harder this time. She wanted to touch him, to feel him, to thread her fingers into his hair. Growling he pinning her down harder, using his full weight against her wrists. She could stop it, she knew that. One fucking word and he’d let go and she’d be able to have her arms around him, her hand in his hair, his nails in his flesh. But no, no. She’d asked for this. She _needed_ this so she was going to let go and let it happen. She was going to be a _good_ girl, just for now.

“Grey.” His voice was firm, warning her to stop.

She nodded and relaxed again as he pushed her wrists together, holding them in place with one hand as the other slipped between her legs, rubbing against her as he fucked her, his bicep bulging as he held her down. She closed her eyes, surrendered herself to the feeling of his weight on top of her and his hand between her legs, and that was all it took as she felt it coming - her orgasm. With a cry she shuddered and bucked underneath him as he fought to hold her in place. continuing to fuck her through her orgasm until the pulsing of her muscles around him were too much and he came, back arching as he gave her one last hard thrust, his hand tightening even more as he did.

A few seconds later, gasping for air Malcolm let go of her wrists carefully, his hand gliding down her body as he pulled out of her.

Grey kept her arms up over her head for a while as she looked up at him, breathless herself. She smiled slowly as she rotated her wrists, testing them out before finally lowering her arms.

“Okay?” he managed.

“Thought you were gonna break my wrists,” she admitted, sitting up to kiss him. “Kinda turned me on.”


End file.
